Follow You into the Dark
by macgyvershe
Summary: From John's and Sherlock's POV. Thanks Whispering Gypsy for your request of Sherlock's story. When John needs help and Sherlock is unavailable, the next best thing comes to mind.
1. Chapter 1

**Follow You into the Dark**

John woke up in a dark enclosure.

"Sherlock," John ventured? The sound of his voice reverberated back from the walls of the tunnel.

John got to his knees then using the wall he pushed himself to stand. A wave of dizziness over took him and he faltered coming back to his knees.

"Okay, not a good idea," John said sitting back down, leaning against the wall while his equilibrium settled.

There was a small amount of light in his immediate area which appeared to be coming from above. John looked himself over in the dim light. Everything seemed to be in working order, except for the vertigo. Now a mild headache arose.

John pulled his mobile out and found there was no reception here. Where ever here was?

"Where the hell are you when I need you, Sherlock?"

"I'm here, John," a familiar voice answered him.

There sitting on a small ledge opposite him, Sherlock sat; his great coat collar turned up, his blue/grey alpaca scarf curled round his neck, but he was totally transparent.

"How can I be of service, John," Sherlock asked? "Do you recall what happened to you?"

"You're not real." John said eyeing the image that was probably being conjured up by a few mixed up neural pathways. John rubbed his eyes then dusted his hands through his hair and found a trace of blood at the back of his head.

"Are you okay, John," Sherlock sounded concerned?

"Apparently not," John answered the hallucination.

"Can you remember what happened? Where you are?"

"Everythings a bit wonky," John closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall.

"Focus, John."

"I was following Sherlock into the tunnels."

"There you go John. It's coming back to you. You always follow me everywhere don't you?"

Sherlock smiled one of his crooked smiles.

"The tunnels were like a labyrinth. I turned a corner and Sherlock was gone. I kept running. I fell into a lower chamber. I didn't see the opening until too late; too dark."

"Very good, John."

John looked at his watch.

"Jezzus, I've been out for nearly ten hours. Sherlock will be…"

"I am totally concerned that you lie injured and unable to call for help."

"He's Sherlock; he will methodically go over the terrain until he finds me." John reassured himself.

"He's been through this area twice, with no word from you." The hallucination said calmly.

"That can't be good, even if you are an illusion." John was starting to worry.

"Okay, you're supposed to be the world's only consulting detective. What do you recommend?" John waited for the hallucination to lie to him.

"Clearly, you are mildly incapacitated, which makes attempting to find your own way out highly impractical. You could yell periodically, but this will undoubtedly tax your already weakened state. I would venture that your mobile would be your best bet."

"The mobile's not working down here. No signal. I don't think you've thought this through, Mister Illusion." John said disappointed in the specter's answer.

"You can't call out, but your device can produce music. Set the music to play continuously the noise of the music should bring Sherlock along."

John took a long breath.

"That just might work." John pulled up 'Welcome to London' by Arnold and Price one of his favorite orchestrations and set it to play repeatedly on his mobile; loudly.

Sometime later Sherlock was shouting down the tunnel at John.

"John, I'm coming down." Sherlock descended, his foot in the loop of a thick rope that was lowered down.

"John, I've been looking for you for hours, how badly are you injured?" Sherlock disengaged from the rope and stepped over to John, kneeling down to examine his only friend.

"I'm a bit banged up, Sherlock. Sorry for the delay, I was knocked out cold for some time."

Sherlock was busy examining John's injury with a small flashlight.

"Can you stand," Sherlock held on to John and gently urged him upward. "There are people up top to help us." Sherlock quickly doubled the loop on the end of the rope.

John put his foot into one of the loops and Sherlock used the other. He put his arms around John and grabbed the rope. Sherlock wouldn't let John fall.

John looked one last time at the shadow Sherlock sitting in the ledge.

"Thanks, Sherlock," he said finally acknowledging the shade.

"You're welcome," the real Sherlock said as he held John tightly. "Up, Now!" Sherlock yelled up to his helpers at the surface of the tunnel above.

The illusion stepped down from the ledge and walked into the light from the tunnel above. It could see the two friends ascending to safety.

"You are quite welcome, my dear John, I will always follow you into the dark." The spectral Sherlock disappeared to where he'd come from; the mind of Sherlock's only friend; a friend in need of his good counsel.


	2. Chapter 2

**Follow You Into the Dark**

**[Sherlock's POV]**

Sherlock was frantic. John and he had been chasing the assassin through the subterranean tunnels. John had been right behind him as the tunnels were too narrow for him to be at Sherlock's side.

Sherlock had lost the assassin in the maze. Giving up and being too winded to go on. He'd stopped and rested his hands against his knees as his breathing came back to normal. Then it came to him that John was not behind him. Oh god.

"John, JOHN," Sherlock had yelled into the tunnels. The reverberation from the walls was all that came back at him. There were side tunnels and lower tunnels all along the route that he had traveled. He hurriedly walked back to where he had started from, being as quiet as was possible, so as to hear John's voice. Nothing.

The tunnels were drainage of a sort. They were cold, damp and hellish and John was injured, unconscious. Sherlock needed help in this, but stopping to round up people from his homeless network would take precious time; time that could mean life or death for his only friend. He made his way to the surface at break-neck speed. Making contact with his homeless network in record time, he found those who knew the tunnels well. But it all took time; time that was working against him. Sherlock knew worrying about John wouldn't help him. So he set his newly formed emotions aside. Dug into the task at hand; how far had he traveled before he lost John? He looked for signs, but the damp ground and slick walls gave up little clues.

"Captain," Scout (who always called Sherlock Captain out of respect) one of Sherlock's young lieutenants came forward to report "we've been through all the auxiliary tunnels on this level and he's not to be found there. We started looking into the lower feeds but there a tons of them. And if he fell and isn't functioning well, he could walk the wrong way down a feed and get lost. If you don't know these tunnels, getting turned around is a certainty."

"Continue, Scout. Make sure everyone keeps as quiet as possible. We need to hear him if he calls."

"Aye, Captain." Scout turned to go then turned back to Sherlock. "We'll find him Captain. We won't stop till will find him." Scout left to continue the search.

Sherlock looked at his watch. It had been six hours and still no word. Time wasn't his friend. He tracked the area that he had run through yet again.

[John, where are you John? I know you are here close. Please give me a sign. Please John, do this for me.] Sherlock thought as he revisited the dark, damp tunnels. Somewhere his best and only friend lay injured beyond his current reach. Sherlock burned the brighter, moving again and again into the same areas.

It was going on ten hours.

"Captain, maybe you should go top side and take a breather?" His young lieutenant was wary of Sherlock's tiredness.

Sherlock shook off the fatigue like a mantle of dew.

"I'll be fine, once we've found him. Don't worry bout me, Scout. I've been through worse."

It was then that Sherlock froze. Music from an electronic device reverberated through the tunnels.

"Oh my god, Captain!"

"Quiet!" Sherlock's command reverberated through the tunnels to everyone within the range of his deep melodic voice. There it was, the tiny sound of music playing. It was almost impossible to pinpoint the direction. Sound bounced here and there and the reverb was constant.

Sherlock closed his eyes. His fantastic computer-like brain began to process all incoming data. Filtering out the sound of men and women, the breathing sounds, the reverb, the normal background noise…he zoned in on the music. 'Welcome to London' played, one of John's favorite orchestrations.

"Thank you, John, thank you," Sherlock whispered. "Scout, we need that rope. Follow me."

Scout tuned to his mates and everyone followed Sherlock into the dark, their multiple flashlights haloing him as he moved ahead of them. Twice Sherlock stopped and had everyone quiet as he closed his eyes again and literally followed the music with his acute sense of hearing.

There, not far from where he'd been not more than several hours ago the music was coming from below.

"John, I'm coming down." Sherlock shouted from above. A three legged stand was placed over the whole and a rope was positioned over the top of the stand. Scout, men and women alike took hold of the rope as Sherlock placed his foot in the loop at the end of the rope and stepped out into the tunnel. He was lowered down. Sherlock was down below for several minutes.

"Up, Now!" Sherlock called from below and the many people there pulled the two men up easily. As they got to the tri-pod rig, several ladies and a man grabbed them and pulled them to the lip of the shaft where they sat as they disentangled from the rope.

"Sherlock, it's so good to see you. I hoped you'd hear the music," John said.

"That was a great idea, John. It's good to have you back." Sherlock helped John to his feet, embracing him in a warm hug. Ever one cheered.


End file.
